


Fill the World with Silly Love Songs

by orphan_account



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-14
Updated: 2010-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-07 06:12:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kris wants to go all out for Valentines Day, Adam humors his boyfriend, but he's not really into the idea of romance</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fill the World with Silly Love Songs

**Author's Note:**

> For the [kradam_ai](http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai) Valentines Fic Fest; prompt was 'Adam and Kris have a picnic in a secluded place for Valentines Day. Extra nice if they made love on a blanket outside.'

Adam is a little surprised when Kris pulls up to the house in a Jeep. With the top down. As far as he knows, they don't own a Jeep. He's gone along with Kris's little plan, just to indulge his boyfriend, but seriously? He had no idea that Kris enjoyed being such a cliché. It's silly enough that Kris insisted on picking him up in the front of the house instead of letting him walk through to the garage with him like normal couples who live together.

Kris asked to plan their Valentines Day though, and Adam's delighted enough with the concept that he hasn't asked too many questions and agreed to all of Kris's suggestions.

But as Kris hops out of the car and greets him with a kind of joy like they haven't seen each other in a while, Adam starts to see the point of the whole exercise. Kris takes his hand and gently tugs him to the Jeep, even opening the door for him. Adam gets in, feeling bemused, but definitely interested.

"Where are we headed?" he asks.

"Oh, up the coast a little ways. To Sycamore Cove Beach."

"It's February."

"Yeah, we'll probably have the place to ourselves then."

Adam's not opposed to the beach in winter, but he hopes Kris understands how fucking cold the Pacific can be. He glances into the backseat of the Jeep and is relieved to see a sleeping bag, along with several blankets and what appears to be an old-fashioned wicker picnic basket.

"Why there?" He's not familiar with that one, but he's pretty sure it's at least an hour away from their house, if not more.

Kris unaccountably blushes, and hunches his shoulders the way he does when he's feeling defensive. Adam palms the arm closest to him and gives it a squeeze.

"The pictures I found looked pretty. And, you know, the name. Sounded romantic."

"It does?"

"From Romeo and Juliet. The beach. Sycamore Grove."

Adam's getting the picture now, and he grins, feeling sappy. "Good choice," he compliments.

He decides that this jaunt is probably due to Kris having been in a relationship with a woman for years, including the whole marriage thing, and that he's still trying to apply the familiar standards to his new situation. He won't tell his lover that gay guys are still guys and don't really need all the romantic trappings that girls do. But if Kris wants to go all out for the occasion, then Adam's not going to complain.

Kris grins happily and momentarily takes his hand off the wheel to press his fingers against Adam's knee. "Thanks. I want this day to be special. We were both touring last year so this is our first real Valentine's Day together."

"Yeah."

"And then two years ago . . ." Kris trails off, his fingers making a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel.

"I know." They've never really talked about that weekend in New York. They didn't get together then, but Adam is aware that night changed things between them. He can never put his finger on what exactly happened. Something about the night and seeing each other that weekend had subtly altered the path of their lives, leading to their eventual reunion and relationship for real a few months later.

Adam settles back into his seat, leaning his head back, content to let Kris handle things. He keeps his hand on Kris's shoulder though, just because he can. Just because they're in this place, which he never expected to get to, but always dreamed of.

They're silent as Kris turns north onto Route 1. Kris handles the Jeep with the smooth confidence of a country boy who grew up around trucks. It's bizarre that Adam would end up with someone like him, but Adam's not arguing against the universe, which has already had some amazing plans for him.

He watches the coast drift by, framed by Kris's profile. A view that never gets old.

The sun is a few degrees off the horizon when Kris turns into the parking lot for the beach. The place has weird shaped rocks poking up and snarls of driftwood pushed to the reach of the tide line. It's deserted, but Adam hadn't really expected anything else in February. He hopes Kris has no plans for swimming because he's pretty sure their feet would fall off from the cold before they even got to the breakers. Adam can never tell what odd things Kris's southern upbringing might tempt him to try, however.

Shifting the Jeep into park, Kris looks out over the ocean. "It's as nice as I'd hoped it would be," he says, turning to smile at Adam.

"It's gorgeous," Adam replies. And because it's Valentines Day, and Kris wants romance, he adds, "Just like you."

Kris grins at him and leans forward for a quick kiss. Adam would've grabbed him and turned it into more, but Kris says, "I'm starving," and hops out of the vehicle.

"You take the food and one of the blankets. I'll get the rest."

Kris shoves the basket and one of the blankets into Adam's arms, while he takes the other two plus the sleeping bag. The basket is heavy and Adam wonders what all Kris managed to get into it, and if he did it himself or had his PA do it. Adam figures that even if Kris didn't whip all of this up himself, he's taken a lot of trouble with it. He enjoys the idea of Kris working so hard to make the evening nice for him.

Adam shivers a little as they walk over the rocks to reach the shingle. Kris stops well clear of the tide line where the sand is heavily mixed with pebbles, but still soft enough to sit down on. He spreads one of the blankets out first, a heavily woven thing that he usually keeps in the garage and Adam suspects must've been a horse blanket back in Arkansas but he's never dared to ask.

The sleeping bag goes down next and then the two lighter blankets. Adam hopes all that is enough insulation from the cold sand. He's comfortable in his hoodie and Henley, but Kris has on nothing but a thin shirt and his jeans. Adam wants to shiver in sympathy but Kris doesn't seem bothered by the chilly air.

"Shoes off," Kris says, sitting on the edge of the blanket and pulling his Converse off, and then his socks, neatly tucking them inside the tennis shoes.

"But," Adam protests, "it's cold. Fucking cold."

"It's colder in Arkansas this time of year."

"Good thing we're not in Arkansas," Adam can't help but snipe.

Kris gives him a look and Adam mumbles something along the lines of 'bossy pocket sized boyfriends' before he sits down and does what he's told. He's glad that he's not wearing some of his more expensive and delicate boots that would get wrecked by the combination of salt and sand. He lines his boots up beside Kris's, amused as always at the size difference even in their shoes.

Kneeling in the middle of the blankets, Kris pulls the basket towards him, and opens it. He pulls out a flask and two insulated cups. The liquid steams as he pours it out and hands one to Adam. The rich smell of Adam's favorite roast reaches his nostrils and Adam eagerly takes a sip of the hot coffee, not caring that it might blister his mouth. The liquid warms him as it goes down and he feels a bit better about the whole picnic in the dead of winter thing. Kris gives him a smug grin as if he knows exactly what Adam was thinking and Adam reflects that at this point, he probably does.

"Oh, I forgot," Kris exclaims and getting to his feet, goes back to the Jeep. He comes back with his guitar case in one hand and what looks like a stack of wood in the other. The wood turns out to be some sort of tabletop thing that cleverly opens out giving them someplace stable to put their dishes. Kris puts it in the middle of the blanket and sets the Thermos of coffee on it.

The next thing to come out of the basket is a bottle of red wine. Kris pours two glasses and sets them on the wooden thing. Adam finishes the rest of his coffee and picks up the wine, grateful for another source of heat as the alcohol warms him as it goes down. Kris opens another insulated container, which proves to contain baked lasagna.

"I don't want to hear a word about carbs," Kris says before Adam can open his mouth. "It's Valentines. You're allowed to indulge."

Adam sticks his tongue out playfully. Kris laughs and holds out two forks. Adam takes one and then Kris settles in at his side, tucking himself into Adam's space the way he always has since almost the first day they met. Sometimes he wonders if he had a sign on his forehead back then that said 'I have no personal boundaries, come on in.' Not that he regrets any of what they went through since it got them where they are now.

Kris holds the casserole container up so Adam can reach it and sticks his fork into it to get a bite. Adam does the same and he has to admit that warm tomato sauce mixed with melted cheese does a fabulous job of chasing away the chill. So does a hot boy pressed against him. Adam sips his wine, savors his food, and watches the sun go down, turning the low clouds into a blazing display of light that he could never hope to capture in one of his shows.

He presses a kiss to Kris's temple when the food is gone. "Thank you. This is perfect."

Kris grins happily. "Wait. There's chocolate."

"Really?"

"Can't have Valentines without chocolate."

Picking up yet another container, and one spoon, Kris says, "Open up."

Adam obeys, feeling bemused at the idea of feeding each other. When Kris decides to get romantic, he doesn't hold back. The chocolate is some sort of half cake, half pudding dessert, rich and moist, and above all, also warm. Adam wonders where Kris had all this catered from, because although Kris is a great cook and Adam has no doubt that Kris could have made the food, Adam would've noticed if all of this had been done in their kitchen. He saves the thought for later because such mundane things have no place here and now.

"You're the most awesome boyfriend ever," Adam says after he's thoroughly savored the dessert.

Twilight is deepening over the beach, but Adam can still see the flush that spreads over Kris's face. He takes Kris's hands and slowly kisses each knuckle.

"Thank you for doing this for me. I'm overwhelmed." And he means it. His usual eloquence seems to have deserted him, but he can't remember anyone ever taking so much trouble to do something for him.

Kris shrugs. "You're worth it. _We're_ worth it."

If there's a faint shadow of too much knowledge in Kris's voice neither one of them mentions it. They both understand how fast relationships can go bad when the parties involved don't cultivate them carefully.

"I'll clean up the meal," he offers and then gestures to Kris's guitar case off to the side. "Play something for me?"

With a happy nod, Kris pulls the guitar out and sits cross-legged on the blanket. Adam busies himself with the food, carefully putting the containers back in the picnic basket. He finds another Thermos of coffee and pours out two more cups, just in case they need more warming from the inside. Something thumps in the lid of the basket and he pulls open a pocket at the top to find a small bottle of lube. Grinning to himself at further evidence of Kris's forethought, he tucks into the pocket of his jeans to make sure it's nice and warm when they get ready to use it.

It takes him a moment or two to figure out the trick of the table thing but he finally finds the catch that releases it to fold up. With everything put away but the coffee, Adam lays back on the blanket, staring up at the sky. His hand finds Kris's bare foot and he holds on, not moving, just making contact.

Adam closes his eyes while Kris plays around on the guitar, no particular song, just a fall of melody and occasional harmonizing chords. Adam knows from experience that suddenly everything Kris is doing will coalesce into something astonishing and beautiful, and then Kris will have a new song. The process still astounds him and when Kris is like this, Adam feels as though he's in the presence of true magic. Sometimes he's humbled that Kris lets him in on the process.

Getting comfortable on the blankets, and stretching his legs out, Adam turns on his side to watch his partner. He approves of Kris's wardrobe choice for the day – a thin gauzy linen button down shirt, unbuttoned past the bottom of his ribs. The shirt reveals and conceals at the same time, the thin fabric showing hints of dark nipples and the shadows of Kris's muscles. The look isn't flashy, but wholly natural and entirely Kris.

A slow burning fire stirs inside Adam, one that he's become familiar with in the course of their relationship. It never seems to go out though, not after all the times he's enjoyed Kris's body over the nearly two years that they've been together.

Kris looks up from the guitar in time to catch the tail end of that look. "Oh," he says.

He puts the guitar in case after wiping any possible sand and salt off of it. His hands are gentle and thorough on the instrument, and the care he takes with it does nothing to cool Adam's want. He knows that Kris will show the same amount of dedication and concentration when he touches Adam's body.

He waits; this is Kris's idea, Kris's show. He's willing to follow, for once. The whole world knows he's a toppy bitch, but really, he has no problem letting someone else take control, especially when it's Kris, who does it so infrequently. Plus, of all the lovers Adam has ever had, Kris is the only one whom he trusts completely and beyond reason. Maybe that's why they've lasted so long. Or maybe they've lasted so long because the trust came before the relationship.

Kris settling beside him pulls Adam out of his musings, compact frame folding up to fit perfectly when Adam opens his arms. Kris leans up, tilting his face towards Adam like a flower opening for the sun, a gesture that Adam's seen a thousand times now and never tires of. He bends, acceding to the implicit plea and their lips touch.

As Kris opens his mouth to invite Adam inside and Adam heartily accepts the invitation, the earth beneath them lurches and shudders. Kris pulls his lips away and turns into an octopus, only not really, but he clings with arms and legs and even his torso seems to attach itself to Adam's like a barnacle.

"What was that?" he asks, voice tight with fear, and Adam can't help teasing, because he's just too fucking cute.

"What was what?"

"You know . . . the earth . . . jumping around."

Adam lets out a long, low whistle. "I knew I was good, babe, but you don't have to stroke my ego like that."

For a moment, Kris stares at him and Adam keeps his face amused until Kris finally breaks, laughing and swatting him lightly on the chest.

"You suck," he says.

"Not yet," Adam replies, mouth puffing a gust of hot air over Kris's ear.

"That was an earthquake," Kris says. "A goddamned earthquake. California, falling into the sea."

Adam laughs. "That was a 5 at the most, country boy. Nothing to get excited about."

"California is crazy. We don't have earthquakes in Arkansas. Sometimes we get tornado warnings, but it's nothing like the plains. Once we got the tail end of a hurricane – I think it was Ike, maybe. Nothing else. Nothing like this. Nothing happens there."

Kris winds down finally as Adam keeps his hands wrapped firmly around Kris's back. He's familiar with the kind of babble that Kris comes out with when he's nervous or scared. The small part of him, the part that is still frightened that Kris will turn out to be no more than a dream that vanishes in the harsh light of day, wonders if earthquakes are enough to panic Kris back to Arkansas.

But Kris has always understood him, and now, as the shadows of fear trickle away from his face, he repeats, "Nothing like this."

And he's reaching up again, mouth finding Adam's without any trouble. Adam's sigh is mostly with happiness, but also with a small amount of relief at the reassurance that nothing's going to change, that nothing can drive Kris Allen away from him – not media shit storms, not religious disapproval, and not fucking earthquakes.

Kris tugs on him, leaning back, and Adam obediently follows. Another thing about Kris that he's learned to put up with – the man is the bossiest bottom in the history of ever. Worse than Brad even, and Adam had thought that no one could outdo Brad. Most of the time Adam shuts Kris down, wrenching control away from him because he knows that Kris likes it, likes that Adam doesn't put up with shit a lot. But tonight is Kris's plan and Adam's content to leave things in Kris's hands. Even if Kris wants to fuck him, Adam's fine with that since it doesn't happen very often. Not by his choice. But Kris just loves having things in his ass, and most especially, Adam's dick.

"Unbutton me," Kris orders and Adam complies, spreading the linen shirt open as he works, revealing golden skin and hard muscles. Kris squirms out of the garment and then raises his hips, working at the fastenings of his jeans. A breeze from the sea kicks up, blowing lightly over his bare skin, raising goose bumps and pebbling his nipples. Adam's momentarily jealous of that puff of air, but Kris shoves the jeans down his legs and drags them off his feet, giving Adam a view of his lithe body.

"Now you," Kris says, lying back on the blanket and opening his legs. Adam hurries, tearing off his hoodie and his shirt, and shucking his jeans down his legs.

The air still has a chill edge to it, but Adam doesn't care anymore as he kneels between Kris's knees.

"What do you want, babe?" he asks.

"Not me," Kris answers. "This is about you. How much I love you. What do you want?"

"You know what I want. What I always want. Have I become boring?"

"Never," Kris answers, and he pulls his feet up to rest on the blanket, letting his knees fall open.

Adam trails his fingers along the insides of Kris's thighs, thankful for the moonlight that's giving him a view of the feast laid out before him. He scrapes the pads of his fingers over Kris's balls and discovers something that the shadows had previously hidden from him. Kris has shaved. Adam makes a startled noise and then his fingers explore further. Kris left his treasure trail and the hair immediately around the base of his cock, but the rest of him is bare.

"Why . . . ?" Adam starts to ask, but Kris makes an impatient move with his hips, and it's Kris speak for 'get on with it.'

Adam slips his fingers lower, and finds another surprise as his finger slides through lube. "Kris . . ." he groans.

"Please, Adam."

Testing the edges of Kris's entrance, Adam finds more lube and his finger slips easily into relaxed muscles.

"Oh, fuck. You're already open."

"Cleaned. Plug," Kris mumbles, tossing his head and pushing his hips against Adam's finger. "Wore it all afternoon. For you. Fuck. Take."

Adam has to grip his dick hard at that combination of Kris reduced to monosyllables and the thought of him preparing himself so thoroughly for Adam's pleasure. Kris is full of surprises and Adam has a momentary vision of him puttering around their house, getting all of this ready for dinner, all while his ass is stretched around a plug. He breathes heavily, fighting back his arousal.

When he's under control again, Adam leans back on his heels. He grips Kris's butt cheeks and pulls the smaller man onto his lap. Kris instinctively drapes his legs over Adam's arms, making a little impatient whiny noise that doesn't help Adam out with his arousal at all.

Pushing on his dick to get it at the right angle, he nudges at Kris's hole. Kris bucks trying to get him deeper, but Adam swats him on the ass, a wordless command to be still. Adam plans to savor this slowly, although from the lube and the stretching, he's sure that Kris expects to get his ass pounded. Normally, Adam would be all for that, but Kris went to so much trouble with this whole _thing_ that Adam feels like he should properly show his appreciation.

Creeping inside slowly, a bit at a time, he can feel every flutter and clench of Kris's body as he gradually yields to Adam, his surrender all the more sweet for allowing Adam to experience every moment of it so intensely.

"Please," Kris moans again.

"Shh, let me enjoy this."

Kris thrashes his head, but he shuts up, although his hands grip Adam's knees tight enough to be painful. Those strong calloused fingers let Adam know how he's feeling about Adam's pace. When he's fully inside, Kris's cute ass resting against his balls, Adam settles into the sensation of Kris wrapped entirely around him. He lets the feeling rise in him, lets it rise in Kris until Kris is whimpering again, and then he moves. He sets a leisurely pace, because he knows that if he goes any faster at all, he'll lose it.

"Touch yourself, baby," he croons. "Take what you need."

Kris immediately releases his left knee and wraps a hand around his cock. He's not jerking as fast as he sometimes does, but he's setting a pretty good pace and Adam wonders how on edge he must've been all this time from having the plug inserted. He forces himself to stop moving and just watch Kris. He keeps his hands cupped on Kris's ass, making sure he stays pressed all the way inside. Kris makes a series of little short, sharp noises, a sure prelude to his orgasm. His abs tighten, raising him slightly off the blanket. Adam loves how Kris keeps himself in shape, how muscular he is, despite, or maybe because of, his small size. He's more solid than anyone else Adam's ever been seriously involved with.

Kris bucks and Adam holds him through it, watching as the cords of the tendons in his neck tighten and his mouth opens in a soundless gasp. He jerks, body hopping on Adam's dick. When it's over, and Kris has melted back onto the blanket, his body going limp and pliable, Adam starts moving again, slowly, letting it sneak up on him, orgasm by ambush.

It finally rushes over him, drowning him in it and he lets it pull him under, not caring if he's howling up to the watching moon and the cold stars.

Kris gives him a goofy smile, his fucked-out face. Adam stays in place for a while, stroking his fingers down Kris's legs which are still wrapped around his waist. He enjoys the tactile feel of the rough hair covering hard muscles. Kris's hands are open, fingers curled up, relaxed. Adam watches him, can't stop himself sometimes from just watching Kris like this. He supposes that maybe one day he'll get over the fact that Kris Allen is his, but it's hard to imagine.

When Adam finally pulls out, Kris makes a little mewl of protest, and Adam is not too happy about the cold air suddenly hitting his dick, not when it's been buried in his favorite warm spot for so long. Kris makes a sleepy noise and his eyes are already closing when Adam settles beside him, ready for a nap too.

Kris shivers and Adam suddenly feels the cool ocean breeze over every inch of his skin. They can't sleep here, not on this public beach in the middle of what passes for winter in Cali. Too fucking cold. Besides, the last thing they need is early morning surfers posting pictures of their tryst on the Internet.

He ignores Kris's grasping hands when he sits up and pulls his clothes back on. He wraps the blankets around Kris and then packs the picnic up. He's not sleepy all of a sudden and he feels like he could go all night. When everything is back in the Jeep, except Kris and the blankets, Adam finally goes to wake up his boyfriend.

"Come on, sweetie, we can't stay here."

Kris grumbles incoherently and Adam assumes that whatever he said wasn't very flattering, but he just grins and puts an arm around Kris's shoulders. He doesn't bother trying to get Kris back into his clothes, but half carries, half drags him to the Jeep. He makes sure the blankets are securely wrapped around him and then buckles him into the passenger side. It takes him a moment or two to figure out how to get the top up, but as soon as they have a break from the light wind, Adam sighs with relief. Fucking Kris outside is nice, but he really prefers better weather for it.

"The things you make me do, Allen," he says, ruffling Kris's hair. Kris just leans into the caress and then into Adam's shoulder, making driving a bit of a trick, but Adam manages.

As they head home in the dark quiet night, they seem to be the only car on the road for miles and miles. With Kris a line of warmth against his side, Adam can't keep the pleased smile off his face. Maybe romance isn't such a hetero thing after all.


End file.
